The Wave
What if, 150 years from now, a poster from Hobby Lobby has become one of the most influential works of art in the world? I was fortunate to hear a lecture by Sarah E. Thompson (curator of Japanese art at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston) about the inspiration and influence of Katsushika Hokusai (1760–1849). Hokusai was a Japanese painter whose woodblock print Under the Wave off Kanagawa became one of the most well-known and influential pieces of art in the past two centuries.
You owe it to yourself to read at least a little about this artist, but the point of this musing is simple: Hokusai’s woodblock prints were the commercial art of his day. In Japan, during the Edo period, the Literati were the cultural and artistic elite whose ideal was to gain proficiency in the “three perfections”: poetry, calligraphy, and painting. In Japan, Hokusai was seen as vulgar, beneath the consideration of the imperial literati. In the West, however—mostly after his death and the lifting of Sakoku (the isolationist policies of Japan before 1850)—his work would have a revolutionary impact.
For me, this begs the question: “Who or what is the Hokusai in my life, work, and community today?” Who is creating, and what are they creating, that I am overlooking because they or their work don’t fit the established “standards”? This is problematic for several reasons.
Our guesses about the future will be wrong. It is easy to look back and think people were blind or stupid to miss what is so obvious to us today. People in the future will view us the same way. It is impossible to predict the future. What is unknown and undiscovered will reshape the future in ways we cannot see from within our current state. Sakoku had been the “state” in Japan for over 200 years. Japan consistently resisted outside influence, so there was no reason for anyone to think the cultural system would change.
Change will happen more quickly than we think. Most of us tend to perceive the world around us as relatively stable; it is not. The catalysts for change can come from anywhere and are usually unanticipated. Japan resisted opening its country until July 8, 1853, when Commodore Matthew Perry of the U.S. arrived with his kurofune (the Black Ships) and demanded Japan open trade. (Insert pic of man with thought bubble that says, “That was quick…”)
The speed (rate) of change is increasing. In his bestselling book The Singularity is Near, Ray Kurzweil sees an exponential increase in the rate of change. He estimates that the rate of change accelerates every decade. So, 20 years from now, the rate of change could be four times what it is today. Hence, we could see 20,000 years of change during the next century. This makes using patterns and trends difficult even for shorter-term predictions with limited clarity. Forget making long-term predictions.
Most impactful, though, is that our guess at the future reflects what we find important now. The literati missed the significance of Hokusai, in part, because of what they had decided art and being an artist were. They had a fixed mindset that prevented them from accepting even the possibility of something different being important.
As leaders, we can do some things that improve our chances of seeing more and seeing before. (I stole that from John Maxwell, who probably got it from Leroy Eims!)
Be mindful. There are many tools we can use to focus our senses and concentrate on details. Grounding techniques, meditation, practiced presence, and others can enhance our ability to see more. They say the devil is in the details, and he may be—but the future most certainly is.
Pay attention. Use all your senses, and take in what you hear, smell, taste, and touch as well as what you see. The more you practice differentiating subtle variations (say, in texture or a person’s expression), the more you will notice about everything.
Slow down. Ask questions (even if only in your own head). Write things down. Draw pictures. Engage in activities that challenge you to do something new or in a different way. Play the memory game all the time by trying to recall what you have seen and heard earlier. Go back over your notes, thoughts, and memories of a day or week, and think about what you noticed and why.
Be curious. Don’t ever think you know. Always assume you have a limited subset of the full story. Be relentless about finding the rest of the story. Don’t assume you know the rest of the story. Resist making it up. Instead, relish finding out the story as it unfolds to your questioning.
When leaders are closed off to discovering greatness in unlikely places, we rob our communities of experience and growth. Being wrong about the wave of the future isn’t a crime. Not seeing opportunity and potential because it doesn’t fit in our preconceived boxes is a failure of leadership—and maybe should be a crime. Let’s be leaders who are open to finding greatness wherever it is and grow our communities the Bison Way.